


Behind Closed Doors

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hero Worship, Implied Gang Violence, Implied Organized Crime, M/M, Mentions of sex work, Oral Sex, mentions of stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 14:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17551718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Nobunaga's closest-kept secret is not what you might think.





	Behind Closed Doors

Nobunaga had a reputation to maintain. He could not be seen unless he was immaculately dressed, perfectly composed, unshaken and unrattled – not because there was a threat of loss if he did not, but simply because his own standards were just that high. No vulnerability. No emotion. They called him the Demon King for a reason and he intended to make sure that this reason stayed well and truly alive, and for the most part, he had no doubt in his own ability to do so.

Until night fell, that was.

Until night fell and Akechi would come in to report to him, of findings, of earnings, of whatever he’d been doing that night, whether it was his round at the club or whether he had taken another private client of any importance to the back room. He’d list off what he found coolly, without much inflection, as if reporting to a military superior. His eyes would tell a different story. 

Then he would look up, expecting and anticipating to be rewarded and Nobunaga would see no reason to deny him. He knew what he wanted, and he had a guess as to why. The way that he would crawl up onto the bed with that flush heavy across his cheeks and how he would shiver with each and every touch, even though he was still bruised and bleeding from whatever it was that he _had_ been doing prior to coming here. Somehow Nobunaga had more power over him than anyone else.

And he liked that.

Sometimes he would take him by the back of the neck, like scruffing a disobedient cat, and shove him face first into the bed and tear what little clothing remained on him right off. It was what he wanted. Sometimes he would guide him down to his knees and Akechi, eager-eyed and breathless, would swallow him to the base. It was what he wanted. Being stretched and filled but most of all, being _here._ Being close. It had taken Nobunaga some time to figure it out, but nevertheless, he understood a little more now, at least more than he had to begin with.

But then afterwards, when Nobunaga was too tired to tell Akechi to leave, he would climb beneath the blankets and pull him close, his hair smooth and immaculately soft. It was a moment of brief vulnerability that no one else would ever have the privilege to see, and Akechi was fully aware of it, he would quietly _glow_ the whole time, basking in the closeness that so few had ever been offered. Hands stained with blood and suits perfectly pressed, he did not usually allow himself to be seen like this, save for here, in this little room, behind closed doors where all was quiet. He would hold Akechi Mitsuhide close and would not close his eyes first, and secretly, he was soothed by the quiet breathing against his neck. 

It was a vice that no one would ever be allowed to know, it would be a secret that remained here in these walls, perhaps one that Nobunaga would take to the grave if need be. But for now he relaxed into it, and slept.


End file.
